Carrier of Heartbreak Chap. 2

Haze.
"Where am I?" Jonathan thought to himself. He had the feeling like being so tired that he goes through the day's work, but being only half-awake so nothing he did was really "taken in." Like a zombie.
"Where am I?" he tried speaking again. A blue mist surrounded him, making his head spin and his limbs feel lightless. Falling. That's what it felt like. Falling from the highest point on the tallest mountain.
"What happened?" he asked the mist. No answer. The mist floated lazily around like puffs of blue smoke, enveloping him in is mysterious nature. He tried moving, but all feeling had been lost in his arms, legs, chest; everywhere. The only way that he knew that he was there was because his mind told him so. He could have been dreaming...but all of this didn't feel like a dream. Dreams progress. He was standing still.
"Approach," said a deep but generally soothing voice from the mist. Jonathan started moving forward, letting the mist break as he moved through it. Maybe this was a dream. After all, he was moving now...
"Jonathan Press," said the voice again. This would have frightened him if it weren't for his semi-conscious state. He felt like a member of the audience, just watching and not really caring what happens to the main character, due to the fact that nothing that happened was ever real. But, right now, it felt more real than a dream should have.
"Charged with suicide in the face of depression, despite being healthy, young and strong." the continued.
After a minute, Jonathan took in the words and realized that they were directed at him. Still half-awake, he managed to mutter," I'm...dead...?" though he never felt the vibrations leave his lips. He couldn't feel his lips, either.
No answer for a few moments. Jonathan felt like he was being watched, on stage or in the defendant's seat. If he could have gulped, he would have. But his body still wasn't working.
"Yes," the voice answered, still emotionless yet warm. Jonathan couldn't tell if he was being accused of a crime or pitied by a police officer. Despite just being told that he was dead, he could not feel any emotions at this point.
The only thing he said after that was "How?"
"Suicide. By hanging," explained the voice. Really? He had committed suicide? Hm. That's weird.
"But, given your emotional problems, the other Guardians have decided to give you a choice in the matter. You could either spend a year in hell," Jonathan felt a sudden fear come into his conscious, “or spend 200 years as one of Heaven's Recorders." The voice ending his speech, leaving Jonathan to feebly go over the options in his semi-conscious mind.
Then he remembered it all. Summer. The letter. The stool. That last noithat he heard before his world went black: snap.
"Well...I don't want to be tortured...and 200 years is pretty lengthy..." Jonathan thought aloud.
"But if I go to Heaven a year after Hell, I'll see that bitch Summer sooner," he growled.
The blue mist around him turned to red flames as a pit underneathe him opened up, exposin a dark trench with spikes, jagged rocks and flames hotter that the sun. Fear filled his conscious at thought of entering that torture chamber of heat and blood.
"Okay, okay! Recorder!" he shouted to the voice, hoping for his voice to be heard. The flames exited along with the pit and he lost consciousness again. The mist disappeared, and the he never heard from the voice again.

When he awoke, he had feeling in his body again. He tried moving his leg.
It moved.
He tried moving his head.
It responded.
Finally, his head.
It rose.
He was slumped against a tree, his normal clothes on. He yawned and stretched, great to have feeling back in his muscles. Was it all a dream? The letter, the voice, the mist...was any of it real?
Getting up, he looked round and realized that he was right in front of his little cabin. Nothing was different.
He decided to walk to Summer's house; that letter had to have been part of the dream. She would have never said anything like that. He even decided to whistle, happy that he was free from that nightmare.
At Summer' house, he heard a strange noise. Alarmed, he ran up to the door, which was already opened, and found Summer, crying, face in her arms at her dinner table. What happened? Why was she crying?
As he went to touch her shoulder, he heard her crying something. He listened closely.
"Jonathan...why...you can't...why..." she cried. Jonathan was puzzled.
He went to touch her shoulder, she cried out the rest of what she was tryingto say.
"Jonathan! You can't be dead!" she sobbed. As he heard this, his fingertip went right through her shoudler.
He took a step back. Stunned, he backed up against something hard. He felt it with his hand. Cold. Mirror.
He flipped around and stared at himself in the mirror. Shock.
On his back were two glowing wings, between that of an angel...and that of a demon.
He sank to the floor in horror. He was dead!
Holding his legs, he sobbed along with Summer, daughter of a merchant, killer of Dominoque.


To be continued...